


The Princess and The Pauper

by DolleyAntoinette



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: (I promise it's not just a scene by scene replica tho it's original i promise), Arranged Marriage, But it's not set in a specific era it's just for the aesthetic, Celica and Rinea have the same face, Confusion, F/M, Featuring Duchess the Cat from Professional Orphan :3, Historical, Inspired by Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper (2004), Kidnapping, Peasants, Rococo aesthetic, Role Swap, Royalty, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24281296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DolleyAntoinette/pseuds/DolleyAntoinette
Summary: As Zofia falls into debt, the beautiful Princess Anthiese is to be married to the neighbouring Rigel's Emperor, an affair that should have been simple enough to conduct, being standard of royal families. And yet through the royal cat, Anthiese's favourite knight, and a young seamstress with an uncanny resemblance to the Princess, it seems nothing can go quite as calmly as originally hoped for.Alternatively: "There's more to living than gloves and gowns and threads and seams."
Relationships: Alm/Anthiese | Celica, Berkut/Rinea (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	The Princess and The Pauper

Slender fingers ran themselves down the thick coat of a purring pussycat settled peacefully on the princess’s lap, her claws flexing back and forth, kneading the fine silk of the gown without care for neither its price nor quality. And based on the look on Princess Anthiese’s face, neither did she.

Her finely arched brows were slightly furrowed against each other, and her lips were pressed into a singular thin line of distress.

“Well, kiddo? What do you think?”

Sat opposite to the princess, lazing against the cushioned board of the camelback settee, with a graceless swagger, King Lima took a sip from his steaming teacup, gazing back at his daughter with slightly dazed and half-lidded eyes, alongside a single raised brow, awaiting an answer to his question.

Anthiese bit down on her lip, her ruby eyes darting down to her neglected cup, sat amongst the rest of the porcelain tea set, each piece united through a delicately painted floral emblem. The princess’ hand went limp on the alabaster fur, her fingertips gently vibrated by the continuous hum of her beloved feline’s comfort.

“Anthiese.” Lima’s voice firmly spoke, followed automatically by the sound of his teacup being firmly placed down on the oak table.

  
  


Her gaze finally lifted to meet his own.

  
  


“Being perfectly honest, I would have wished for another man,” Anthiese felt her posture rise with her words, “Perhaps one that I already know and can make a fair judgement on. After all, you had the privilege of marrying Mother in such circumstances. All I have ever wished for is that same experience.”

“Emperor Berkut is a fine man. I’ve heard he plays three different instruments. He’s around your age too, you know, I could be marrying you off to a man older than myse-”

“You’re dodging the point here, father.”

A groan left Lima’s lips as he rubbed his temples, briefly closing his eyes and sighing.

“I know we’re not exactly the closest. But you have to believe me when I say I don’t get some kind of pleasure out of your suffering. If it were really up to me, I’d let you marry whoever you want so long as I don’t need to get too involved with the funny business,”

His head tilted to his left side; resting against his open palm, his fingers running through his weak curls of dulled crimson,

‘But Zofia is struggling. Desaix and I heard that Emperor Berkut is willing to pay a hefty dowry and you can’t deny that an alliance between Zofia and Rigel would be of benefit to us all. The circumstances couldn’t be any more sophisticated.”

Anthiese’s head dropped, her eyes hidden through her fringe as her gaze fell back to her lap, a prolonged exhale being her only response to her father’s words. Duchess, the cat, snaked her body up, stretching her spine and fluffing her tail. Anthiese felt a sting of jealousy, realising how she suddenly wished for such a lux life of a royal pedigree.

  
  


“Anthiese. I’m going to ask you again, and this time I want an answer.”

  
  


Duchess pounced from her mistress’ lap elegantly landing onto her arched paws and prancing out of the parlour without a care

Anthiese felt the colour wash from her face, all of a sudden feeling sick to her stomach. A bead of sweat broke out beneath her bangs, her eyes feverishly backing from her lap, to watching Duchess’ departure, to her shaky surroundings.

  
  


_Did her heart always beat so loudly?_

  
  


Her eyes finally met with Lima’s, two pairs of pupils staring back at each other with tension thick enough to choke on. Maybe that’s why the princess felt as though she were suffocating all of a sudden, her stays suddenly too tight for comfort and her chemise hugging her slender form uncomfortably snug.

“...”

Anthiese desperately attempted to swallow back the lump rising in her throat, her clammy hands balling her skirts up in Duchess’ absence.

  
  


“Will you, or will you not, accept the betrothal of Emperor Berkut Rudolf?”

* * *

“Goodness! Have you heard?! Isn’t the news just wonderful?!” Exclaimed a young seamstress, practically shrilling with delight.

Calloused, yet dainty, fingers ran down piles of silks before expertly snatching a folded pile of ivory, ready to be pressed. “It’s so exciting to know our princess will be marrying Emperor Berkut! I must admit, I am a bit jealous, I’ve heard that he’s quite the looker!”

“Be careful, Tatiana, you wouldn’t want word like that to go back to Zeke.” Teasingly remarked back her co-worker, a playful small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “But I do hope that an event as big as this means us from Rigel will get treated a bit better…”

Tatiana sighed as she lay down the silk on her ironing board, shooting a knowing gaze to her fellow seamstress, “You’re telling me. How I would love the chance to find work elsewhere. At this point, I’ll take any job so long as I don’t have to face Nuibaba’s treatment.”

Running an iron over the creases and folds of the silk, Tatiana lets out a small huff, her free hand rubbing her tired eyes, “But still, it’s a joyful time! And we can only hope this means the best for all us,” a smirk suddenly pulled up Tatiana’s lip as she paused to look over her shoulder, “And you never know Rinea, maybe you’ll be given the chance to sing at the royal wedding! How exciting would that be? You could snatch up an emperor of your own with a voice like yours.”

  
  


A warm flush tinted Rinea’s porcelain cheeks at the childlike fantasy, the dazzling thought spinning around her mind, if only for a split second.

_As if an emperor would want anything to do with an impoverished seamstress and orphan of immigrants…_

  
  


Pinning the pleats of what appeared to be the starting product of a petticoat, the blunette shook her head, “As wonderful as such an idea is, I’d bet that those stories start and end in fairy tales,” her periwinkle eyes met with Tatiana’s olive, “And besides, even if I were able to attract an emperor through song, it’s not like I’d ever have a chance of attending the wedding, let alone performing.”

“You never know~” Sing-sung Tatiana, winking over to Rinea, “Princess Anthiese commissioned a dress from us just two months ago! Maybe Madame Nuibaba mentioned you to her? Or word got back about the talented seamstress stroke songstress who made her absolute favourite gown in the entire world!”

A laugh spit from Rinea’s lips, holding a delicate hand up to her chest as she shook her head in amusement over such a daft scenario. “Oh come now, as if Madame Nuibaba would allow anyone of the princess’ position to know we even exist!”

“Do you think any of her customers truly believe _she_ ’s the one working day and night to get these gowns out? Somehow I struggle to believe such a concept.”

“I have to agree with you on that point, but at the same time, I doubt those customers really care about who’s behind their clothes,” Rinea flashed a daring smile to her co-worker, “But the thought is quite entertaining, is it not? The Madame down here all cooped up, just the picture of a hardworking citizen, passionate about her craft and business!”

  
  


Harmonies of giggles echoed throughout the work room, the young seamstresses laughing like school girls as if their optimism were the only thing getting them through the pain of being a working woman.

“I’m _not_ paying you broads to sit around and chatter all day!”

A pair of heads snapped back to the staircase in synchronization, wide eyes staring into those of their comically cold mistress, leaning against the wooden banister with a grip so tight on the cheap timber that her knuckles were white, an almost impressive thing considering her washed out skin tone that only empathised the darkness of her dress and cosmetics.

Despite her firm and stiff posture, her brow was not creased and her jaw unclenched, an almost sickeningly relaxed expression masked upon her sharp features as she glared down at the girls; practically the picture of a stereotypical cronish shrew from her wicked glare to her exposed décolletage, she looked like she had stepped right out of an opera or fairy tale, cast as the cruel old woman.

  
  


An uncomfortable silence fell amongst the air as the two seamstresses turned their heads back to their work, not even a breath daring to be heard from either one of them. The young women resembled rabbits; innocent prey hoping if it stayed still enough, it would turn invisible.

The echoing of Nuibaba’s heels fell throughout the room, sharply and calmly as she made her way otherwise silently to the girls, not saying a word until she stood but a foot between either girl’s station within the tiny boxed room.

Painstakingly, her head turned towards Tatiana’s ironing, and finally... a tut left her lips.

“Slow, aren’t we, girl?”

“...Excuse me?” Tatiana’s words were but a delicate whisper.

“I said: you’re slow.” Nuibaba barked back in response, before sighing, rolling her head back and staring down at the work done by her employer, “Honestly, it’s quite a shame. Ever since you got with that man of yours, your work has just decreased in it’s quality so very much, you actually _used_ to be a capable seamstress in your early days.”

“...”

“Pathetic.”

  
  


The witch-like mistress spun on her heel to watch Rinea, holding her breath as she ran her stitches through the pleats, eyes barely blinking.

  
  


“Rinea.”

“...”

“Rinea, I told you to have that petticoat done by this evening.”

“...I know. I’m working on it.”

  
  


The undeniable sound of a loud and sharp slap smacked throughout the room.

  
  


Nuibaba’s wrist flicked firmly with an open palm against Rinea’s shoulder, before she gripped against the shoulder of her frock with her long nails and tugged the bluenette in close.

“Don’t you _dare_ get cheeky on me, you little tart.” Nuibaba snarled into Rinea’s ear, “Unlike Tatiana here, _you_ won’t be able to find a man to marry you out of here, _you_ have a debt to pay off to me.”

Her grip loosened as her fingers lifted from Rinea’s shoulders, before shoving her chair back against the mannequin, with it’s half complete petticoat.

“I don’t live with a lot of regrets, but loaning your parents that money is certainly one of them. I had hoped you would have been grateful enough to dedicate yourself to your work but I suppose that’s too much to ask for. After All, I only paid for your clothes, your food and your roof,” Nuibaba strolled carelessly back to the staircase, “I felt pity for your parents, Rinea, as a Rigellian girl myself, I knew how hard it was to find work out here. But I suppose blood means nothing here, you disgrace your heritage with your lazy work.”

Nuibaba’s words were like a snake’s venom, so casually cruel to the younger woman, with a glare to match.

“Get back to work.”

  
  


The slam of the door rang throughout the room, declaring the boutique’s mistress’ exit.

  
  


A silent sombre fell amongst the room as both seamstresses returned to their projects, as the sound of a steaming iron, shifting silk, and pricking pins was all that could be heard, Rinea couldn’t help but feel her stomach twist into a tight knot, knowing that in this moment she was wasting away her youth.

_How many years had she spent long hours working away over gowns? How many years had she had to hand back her hard work’s pay to Madame Nuibaba for a debt her parents could not pay off? How many more could she stand to live in this place?..._

Threading a needle, her shaky fingers worked by muscle memory. Thick cotton thread being tugged taught, held only by a small single knot, something that would be so easy to break were it not hidden so well.

The needle pierced the white cotton, puncturing itself back and forth in a repeated pattern, forever the same technique, one that will never change.

Rinea’s life was a constant cycle, the same day; a different gown. Her heart tore in two as she knew deep down that _this_ was to be her life until she overworked herself to death, leaving behind no legacy but instead an unpaid debt to the grave. Fairytale fantasies meant nothing when you were buried in a shallow grave with an unmarked stone.

Rinea’s life was a duty. A duty to Madame Nuibaba, a duty to her parents, and a duty to her existence.

  


**Author's Note:**

> This has been an AU that's very close to my heart, I've on and off dabbled with the idea of writing it for most likely almost a year at this point, but it's always been a risky game with writing up Alternative Universes/crossovers like this, but it just randomly hit me recently on how I wanted to adapt the original story to fit, first of all, a written story (as opposed to a musical approach), alongside with the characters I've swapped around and the like. Whilst the Barbie movie was my main influence in plot and with some future scenes, I am taking some original approaches to this fic and so I hope you stick around to see what I have planned!
> 
> For the record, Nuibaba isn't going to be a major character, you won't have to deal with my awful character writing with her for much of the story!!
> 
> Critique is always accepted! I'd love to hear your thoughts, please do share any you may have!!


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